Now What?

rambling...

    I sit and stare at blank pages... I have words I cannot share. Not for lack of want... For lack of the ability to figure out how to put them down for you. I have questions. A weight on my chest... aching and struggling to breathe as if I'm drowning. Shaking, as I fumble with words and a thousand thoughts and questions burn my mind at once. A constant hum in my head from the blood racing... Questions... F**k. Why? Why now? Why are you looking now? I was fine... I was f*****g fine... Well... As fine as haunted can ever be.  I suppose I should say I was fine with the constant ache. I had grown accustomed to it all and had found a smile again... But now? Once again I pray you'll say something... anything... Even if it's to spit at me and tell me you hate me. Sitting and waiting for a glimpse. I don't want to be drawn out from my shadows. All this time and it's still yesterday... That day. I can still taste you... I can still smell you... I still drown in that blue. Awake or asleep it's all the same... it's always you. I still feel your skin on my lips and at my fingertips... Tracing your face... your neck... your arms... As if sketching delicate portraits of paradise in it's perfect imperfections. I still feel the weight of you on me. The hole in my chest I've hollowed just for you. No boundaries... Tear apart what you will. Just make it stop somehow. I have embraced every you I can fathom and have no strength left for this. I can show you my fears in a handful of ashes... The charred remains of my days. Or is that just my heart?  I am so tired of choking on ash and tears. My soul long sold for you. Scream your hatred to the sky and curse my name. Say something... Tell me I'm dead so I can bury the ghosts.

Reviews

[Chidoriflower]

Whoa. This is....this is like divine pain. A ghost, a torment, a past love you can't put into words because the feelings are supposed to be impossible. Even words of hate, words of bitterness will put an end to the misery of something you can't have, or previously sought after. It's a volcano, a cry in the wind, the tearing of flesh. It also reminds me of Eleonora by Edgar Allan Poe. This is perfect in it's imperfection.

[Lucifer Jones]

Thank you so much!